Hold the Fire
by Shrenee
Summary: Some things have to burn through and through, while some have to be snuffed out. In life it's up to you to choose which way to hold the fire. Rated T to be safe. Some language, BL


_Hiya everyone! Another new story. Eh, about my other three. I am still working on them. They're just going a little slowly is all…_

_Anywho. This is my first Kyou Kara Maoh fic. So that means there are probably a lot of Canon errors (as in I get a lot of facts wrong) and a lot of OOCness. I try but I'm not sure if I'm too good at characterization. So I enjoy constructive criticism. I don't ignore other types of criticism, but be kind anyway. Please. And please be aware of my poor, poor, poor Japanese. I'm not very good at it, at all!_

_Anyway. This is a three chapter story. I've already begun the second part and the third is jumping around loosely in my head. So hopefully that means this will be complete sometime this year. Please don't hold your breath though; it might be hazardous to your health._

_Summary: A little take on the individual lives of my two favorite characters (which actually happen to be Murata and Wolfram.) from love and beyond. Pairings are a bit skewed but they're all resolved in the end. I really wanted to put this under humor, though it's only funny in the way that life is. Which when you're outside looking in it's hilarious!_

_So enjoy!_

_Shrenee_

**Hold The Fire  
_Surprise, Surprise_**

It started, Wolfram von Biefield mused, when _he_ stopped protesting to the lack of a female in their relationship. Great detail could be gone into about who this _he_was. Starting the list at Shin Makoku's 27th Maoh he could follow through about a dozen or so separate ways to identify who _he_was but ultimately the list burrowed down to Yuuri. Yuuri Shibuya the 27th Demon King. At least that was one way of looking at him. Wolfram merely regarded him as wimp from time to time and let it lie at that. In fact 'wimp' was one of the names on the list, used frequently to his count, with various other adjectives attached to it such as 'cheating wimp.'

Either way, all of that is off subject, as Wolfram was not currently contemplating the various names of said wimp. He was contemplating the reason why all of a sudden he was at a lost for how to talk to the boy-er man now would it be? When exactly had their conversation as to the lack of forward movement in their relationship turn from 'you're not a girl' to 'let's not talk about it now'? Granted, that phrase was a common one in the Maoh's repertoire of 'avoid Wolfram' excuses. However, it had been about two months since he had last heard the Maoh comment in the negative about his "fiancé" being non-female.

Okay, that doesn't necessarily mean anything. In fact, Wolfram wouldn't be sitting here thinking about that fact except for the fact that it was brought to his attention by a certain glasses wearing birdie. Facts. That was why he was sitting here musing on the small things about his non-relationship. Facts stated that his engagement was a farce. He was more or less riding out the inevitable by not insisting that the engagement be nullified. It started out as a matter of pride. But here he was now, six years since the original mistake, lacking the dignity and pride he had once held in high esteem. And what for. A night spent in the bed of the Maoh. Well, that didn't sound good. Granted, he was an 80 year old mazoku. Who truly expects him to have pure thoughts all the time? He had to snort at that one. Yeah right, as if that would actually happen. Though from the rumors his fantasy life was severely lacking the skills of the maids and the local townspeople. More than half of the rumors that surrounded his nightly stay in the King's chambers could turn him a bright shade of red, which often spread beyond the confines of his face. Though, admittedly not all of the rumors festered on his sex life. A lot of them were fueled by his lack thereof and in turn would turn him red for a wholly different reason.

Aside from the rumors, even if half of them bordered on true (i.e.: the lacking half) sleeping within the Maoh's quarters gave him a sense of comfort that could no longer be gained outside of the four or so walls. Sure, it was nice to sleep next to the one you lo-lov-well next to the one you cared about deeply. But it was more so because he knew that being there he could stand as a potential shield to any threat that presented itself in the late night to their king. That is why, Wolfram imagined, he was still able to sleep within these quarters and both Gwendal and Conrart hadn't dragged him out of the room years earlier. Though nowadays 

Yuuri was much more proficient with his sword skills, Wolfram's being present was a prudent and practical precaution.

Still, with all of this knowledge what more could Wolfram do. He was at the end of his ropes. For some reason the niggling feeling not to give up on Yuuri kept prevailing. Even though it was a tiny voice it gave him hope. Which was stupid. Everything towered against him. Cause honestly after six years of sleeping next to him-Wolfram von Biefield- and not once even remotely glancing his way in an inappropriate manner, especially through those years that are supposed to be your most hormonally active it was official, you were not gay and thank you for your time. Wolfram wondered why he even bothered.

Not that Wolfram thought he was the cream of the crop. Granted he had more than his fair share of admirers to give his ego a boost when he needed them. And surely in his younger years he'd imagined that he had some sort of charm and was attractive to a point. But after six years of being shunned by the one person he wanted to care he began to doubt whatever looks he thought he had. Perhaps, he thought sometimes, he was too pale for Yuuri. Perhaps the man-king preferred tanner skin tones, more so like Gwendal. Or perhaps taller like von Christ. Or maybe even more earthly like the Geika. Either way what Yuuri wanted wasn't Wolfram. And now as the beginnings of his thought process stated, he was beginning to wonder if the reason was purely based upon his lack of the proper reproductive organs.

Wolfram looked up to the ceiling from his place situated on his bed. Yes, his bed, not the bed he shared with the Maoh. Despite popular belief Wolfram kept his own room. And though he didn't spend nights in the room he did enjoy retreating to it when he didn't want to be bothered. Here was a safety haven for him. One Yuuriless spot where the only time the king entered into the room was when Wolfram's thoughts turned towards him. And though he thought about the black haired king often he also did not think about him just as often. Also contrary to popular belief Wolfram's life did not revolve around his apparent need to be noticed by the king, his affianced. While he did spend a great chunk of his time worrying after the man, he did not spend all of his time doting over him. Wolfram was a man in his own rights. And by such had his own interests, his own life dare he say it. And while his first priority was to his king and his country, next up in the line was himself. And Wolfram enjoyed his time by himself.

However much it was that Yuuri liked baseball, Wolfram liked art. He loved art. He loved experiencing new masterpieces. Learning the histories of various known artists and even examining the work of up and coming ones. He didn't just love one medium either. He began by being partial to paint and canvas often amazed by the various things that could be done with such simple instruments. And he worked hard on his own work, more so proud of the next one then the last. But sculptures were rapidly becoming a favorite of his. He would sometimes go to town to examine local sculptors as they molded clay or rock or something else into an unthinkable fashion. How they can see past the block of stone or lump of clay was beyond him, but each work was like magic. From the advanced to the not so good he found himself enamored.

And there was an art form that fire mazoku created and were delightfully good at. So much so that even he was inspired to create images such as they could do. It wasn't so much that a fire lion was hard to make, or that he himself couldn't create such a thing. But these artists, few as they were, could not only create the lion with a supreme amount of control over their abilities. But they added a finesse to it that turned sport into art and gave a certain type of life to the lion that not only made it real but gave it a powerful feeling as well. It was like watching a live canvas. Fires would burn bright or dull changing colors and moods, thinly at the top and raging like and an inferno near the middle. Or switch it up so when the lion pounces the fire burns the brightest within its mane. They were wonderful artist, unfortunately few and far between as many of them suffered from their art. It was a morbidly beautiful thing. And while Wolfram wanted to learn more about the art form (seeing as he was already adept at using his maryouku and didn't need to push himself to create the images) but he honestly didn't have time to devote to learning the finesse. And no, he wasn't just impatient.

In truth, behind art followed music. This he wasn't so proficient in, and his interest in it was initially sparked by Yuuri, but he was growing to enjoy it. Originally he had heard a song that he fell in love with. Not because it was an amazing song, in fact he can't even remember the lyrics to this day, but it was more so because he had heard Yuuri singing it. Now Yuuri's voice was not something to go nuts about. It wasn't a bad voice but there probably wouldn't be any concert dates for the young king anytime soon. He had a pleasant voice. It had 

a low tenor quality to it that made the pit of Wolfram's stomach flip in appreciation. The words were not something he was used to, being as they were from Earth and Japanese hadn't exactly set in for Wolfram yet. But watching Yuuri return from his bath that day, still toweling his hair and singing the light melody, well, he could help but smile at the returned thought. It wasn't some big hurrah, but that really got Wolfram into music. As the next few times he'd heard a song that made his stomach flip he'd thought of Yuuri and his pleasant singing voice.

Music wasn't the only thing that Yuuri had begun his interest in. For about six months now Wolfram had been coming to his room in order to read, Japanese that is. Upon his insistence Murata had garnered a few books from earth on Japanese and how to speak it. Granted it had been hard to read them at first, seeing as they were in Japanese. But Murata gave him the basics on how to read and assured him it would get easier with practice. He also assured him that the books were for grade school students, or actually complete beginners is what Murata had said, as grade school didn't translate well. At least that's what the Geika had found out when Wolfram's glare promised certain death upon the mention that Wolfram was anything like a 'grade-school' student. The scorch marks Wolfram had left on the wall were just a reminder that Wolfram was not stupid just because he didn't know. To which Murata assured him that that was not his intentional statement.

Of course, this was all only done in jest, as Wolfram wasn't one to go around threatening the lives of his higher ups. The ones he wasn't engaged to. As well, Murata was a great guy to hang out with, and Wolfram wasn't the type to get rid of people he liked. A couple of scorch marks should not break a relationship he supposed. And now that he brought up Ken in the first place…

Another smile found its way to his pale peach lips. He remembered the first time Murata had commented on being called Ken. He had asked how he could be so bold as to call the Great Sage by his first name and not his title. Wolfram had jokingly said something along the lines of being the fiancé of the king gave him permission to do so. Murata had laughed and said that theory was farfetched at best, though cute, except for the fact that his affianced-ness was a sham. And though Wolfram expected there to be a catch in his heart, which happened anytime someone said anything along those lines, he could only laugh. Maybe because he didn't care anymore-at least at that moment. Or maybe because when the Great Sage said it, it was really kind of funny. Who better to confirm it, right? Either way Murata smiled in an odd way, the light catching his glasses. And Wolfram shook his head. "You suck, Ken." He voiced in remembrance.

"Ah, I knew you were thinking about me." Ken commented from the doorway of Wolfram's room. He walked in, pausing to shut the door then moved to sit next to the blond on his bed. "So, what did I do this time, and tell it was something dirty. It sounded dirty." Wolfram laughed sitting up only so that he could push his friend away from him. "When did you get back?" He asked and Ken smiled. "Yesterday actually, but I'm afraid I've been too busy to come see my love muffin." Wolfram rolled his eyes.

"My ass." He commented.

"No Wolfram, geez, you have a dirty mind. I was talking about Ulrike." Murata grinned and Wolfram couldn't do more than glare at the man. What do you say to that? "You are a pervert, Ken. Plain and simple." Wolfram said and Murata's grin grew wider as he attached himself to the blond. "But you love me." Wolfram snorted. "As much as I love the way you say my name. 'Ken ' just rolls off your tongue so easily. It's like a melody of-"

"Get out."

"Sirens, calling out to me. An erotic explosion of-"

"I said go."

"Sex on a stick. You know, the low fat kind." Murata finished and Wolfram stopped his efforts of dragging the soon-to-be-dead-Sage to the door. "Hell no I'm not low-fat. That crap tastes like…crap." Wolfram put eloquently. Murata shook with suppressed giggles then leaned against the blond chuckling out the last of his jollies. "I like the way you're mind works, Wolfram. Just for that, the next time I go to earth, I will bring you something…mmmm…" Wolfram waited for his friend to finish. On the exterior he seemed not to care but inside he was waiting impatiently. He, he found out months ago, was dependant on the gifts that Ken brought to him. It seemed like crack almost. But somehow someway what Ken brought Wolfram could use to gain Yuuri's interest. Such as popcorn, which was popular in theatres, Ken told. At some point in a conversation Wolfram brought up popcorn, which somehow pushed the conversation towards Movies, which were moving 

pictures Yuuri explained, like a play, only with technology. He'd explained more but Wolfram stopped listening for a little while before they came back to the point. And Yuuri explained that his favorite movie series at the moment was _Pirates of the Caribbean_. An American film about pirates. Wolfram had guessed as much from the title. Normally something named Pirates of the Caribbean would indeed include pirates. At least you would think. After he gave his opinion on that he was promptly told to hush while Yuuri went into detail on his favorite parts. Wolfram smiled to himself. At first just watching and hearing then actually listening to the story unfold.

Wolfram can also remember the time Murata had brought him a Harry Potter book. He had spent a lot of time (often forgetting the time and ending up late to various things) translating the book. It was a trying thing but the more he forged through the easier it got. He'd gotten pulled in at the end of The Sorcerer's Stone… (He was still trying to figure out the difference between a wizard and a sorcerer.) And decided to take the read with him from his room to Yuuri's. Or, theirs. And was there reading when Yuuri retired to the room for the night.

Unbeknownst to him Yuuri had paused watching him for a second wondering if he saw what he thought he saw. Was Wolfram reading an Earth originated book? In glasses. For a moment he hung on the glasses before curiosity set in. "Wolfram? When did you start wearing glasses?" That's not what he meant to ask. He was going to ask why-how-when- he started reading Harry Potter of all things. But that was an okay question, he'd start there.

Wolfram had looked at him before remembering that he was indeed wearing reading glasses, another gift procured from Murata. He scratched at his cheek absently before saying, "They're for reading, Murata let me have them." Yuuri nodded to that. Not because he understood, more because there were so many questions that rose from that statement that he was lost as to where to begin. "How…" Yuuri tilted his head to the side slightly and Wolfram held back a smirk wondering if that was helping him come up with a proper question. "Um, Okay." Yuuri decided to let it go, just chalking it up to yet another Wolfram mystery. He'd compiled a list actually. It was growing pretty substantially, in fact it did so every time they were together.

Wolfram shrugged, returning to his book as Yuuri prepared himself for the night. Once settled comfortably in bed Yuuri turned to Wolfram. "Those glasses actually make you look smarter." He said and a pale gold eyebrow rose. Yuuri blanched before trying to reword his previous statement. "What I mean is-"

"I know exactly what you mean Yuuri. And chances are if you continue your train of thought you're going to say something stupid-_er_. Therefore, shut up, wimp."

"I'm not a wimp; look I was trying to compliment you. Jeez." Yuuri rebutted.

"By saying I look stupid without glasses? Your smooth Yuuri, you make me melt like butter." Wolfram flatly remarked sarcastically.

"Ew, don't say that." Yuuri said blushing slightly at the implication. Wolfram gave him a dead-panned look before removing the glasses he was wearing. He moved towards Yuuri who recoiled slightly fearing the worst. "Don't move, wimp." Wolfram admonished and before Yuuri could open his mouth to defend himself Wolfram slipped the glasses onto Yuuri's face.

They stared in silence at each other. Yuuri moreso afraid to move than anything. And then Wolfram smiled. Then he grinned openly, which turned to chortles, then full out laughter. He didn't stop until his sides hurt too much from laughing. "What? Why are you laughing?" Yuuri asked tugging off the glasses self-consciously. "Sorry-Sorry." Wolfram said regaining his breath. "I was actually trying to see if _you _would at least _look_smarter in glasses. But you just remind me so much of this picture of Harry Potter. Really it is funny." He said as if trying to plead a case. Yuuri blinked owlishly. Then shook his head. Somewhere in that explanation was an insult, but he let it go. Sliding out of bed he padded over to the mirror. He pushed the glasses back on and examined himself. He did _not_ look like Harry Potter. Wolfram and his screwed up….

"I look like a dork." He commented after further inspection. Wolfram silently agreed but offered nothing to the statement. But the prince had seen the black haired Maoh in good looking sunglasses once. The kind that better fit his face. So it was more that these were not the right glasses, he decided, and not because glasses were bad for the king.

"They look better on you." Yuuri acquiesced.

"I guess you can't be helped then." Wolfram said brightly, the underlying sarcasm apparent. At least to him. If Yuuri caught it he didn't acknowledge it. Chances were it went right over the double-black's head. Quite disappointing. It always was when a joke or a jibe missed its intended target.

It wasn't until the lamps were darkened and they were both settled for bed that Yuuri turned to the pink clad back that was facing him. "Hey!" He exclaimed a little late. Wolfram bit his hand to keep from laughing out loud, unable to stop the tell-tale signs of his mirth that shook his shoulders.

"Wolfram, are you listening, it's no fun to tell you what I'm going to get for you if you're not paying attention." Murata interrupted Wolfram's past musings. "I'm listening, Geika, what is it?" Wolfram said respectfully, though his tone of voice and body language didn't meet standards. Murata let it pass waving it off cheerfully. "Finally respect, honestly, what took you so long?"

"What are you getting me?" Wolfram asked, opening his door and proceeding outside.

"Impatient aren't we." Murata asked following the blond out and accompanying him down the hall. "How bad do you want your sweet love monkey Murata to bring you something?"

"Never mind, don't bring me anything. You're creepy."

"You wound me, deeply Wolf-chan. In fact, I am crippled to the core. Torn to shreds upon the icy depths of your piercing words." Wolfram paused for a second looking to Murata briefly before rubbing his temple. "Why do I spend time with you, Ken? You're a pervert, a know-it-all, a prick, and a cheat. And worse of all you give me these horrible headaches when you say stupid things, like 'torn on the icy depths' I mean, you'd be pierced on the icy tips long before you reach the depths."

Murata nodded to that, then he grinned, "However, the point is, I get pierced on the tip and my body slides down till it reaches the bottom most part. Being torn up in the process."

Wolfram stepped to the window they had stopped in front of. "Murata, I mean this with the most absolute respect a sentence such as this can be said with. For a Sage of your stature you really are a dork and an idiot."

"Ah, that stings, and despite how much I wish to have a comeback to that I have nothing to say because it's absolutely true." Murata sniffed dramatically but frowned at the blond mazoku in front of him when he received no return. The smirk that had been on the pale features disappeared. And what was left was a look of utter and complete horror. The color had drained from his features and his eyes were wide.

"Conrad, boku wa, Boku wa suki…."

Wolfram felt his throat constrict and for a moment he couldn't breathe. He didn't want to hear the rest but for some reason he wasn't moving. Conrart? Conrart of all people. Of course Conrart. He was tall, he was tan too, he even was more so tied to Earth then Wolfram would ever be. And aside from all that Conrart was everything that Wolfram wasn't. Firm, but gentle. Kind and full of advice. He had an interest in baseball and other earthly activities, hell, he wasn't just everything Wolfram wasn't he was perfection. He could even better protect Yuuri in case of emergency. Conrart was so much better.

Before now Wolfram had begun to think…he had begun to convince himself that maybe Yuuri changed his mind. That maybe somewhere along the line, specifically at the point in which he had stopped protesting that somehow he had started warming up to being with Wolfram. But it wasn't Wolfram that he had warmed up to.

_Conrad…suki…_

"Wolfram?" Murata called to get his attention; he turned to the Sage blinking a few times. He was not about to…he wasn't upset, Wolfram assured himself. Murata gave him a look that simply stated "get over it" but in its own way was comforting, and Wolfram nodded, feeling a bit numb. Murata gave a small smile, which was partially returned by Wolfram. He had known this was coming. Granted not this particularly, but, it was okay because…because. "Come on." Murata said gently grabbing his arm and moving him away. He didn't pay attention to where they were headed, and in truth he wanted to remain where he was. Maybe yell a little bit at that cheating, conniving, wimp. But this was probably better either way. He could do that when the anger set in and he wasn't so numb.

Though, as life would ordain it, Yuuri got the chance to witness their exit Eyes wide he stared at the empty window floors above him. Was what he just saw? Were Murata and Wolfram--

And at that moment both of them believed that everything had changed.

_Additional Fun Stuff..._

'I was so happy when you smiled…' Yuuri paused, looking up from his book to where Wolfram was laying comfortable on his living room couch. Standing without a word Yuuri crossed over to the stereo which was playing a soft tune and pressed the rewind button. "Yuuri, what are you doing?" Wolfram asked nonplussed when the music he was singing along with paused. Yuuri let up his finger from the button and once again the gentle melody began. "Sing that again." Yuuri instructed and though Wolfram was wary as to what the heck was going on (and let's not get him started on the stereo which he was finally beginning to understand but was feeling lost about once more) he sang again picking up from the point where the song started over.

Yuuri listened, watching the blond without a word and expressionless. Finally the song ended and Wolfram felt a little flustered at being watched so intensely throughout the melody. So he sings…so what? It wasn't that bad was it? And then Yuuri broke out into a smile. "Wow, Wolfram, I didn't know you could sing that well. You're really good." Wolfram's face turned a light shade of red, almost pink. "Wha-uh, thank you." He said surprised but beaming inside.

"Yeah." Yuuri agreed with himself before returning to his book. "You should sing for me sometime. You know, for real." He commented off-handedly. Wolfram's lips twitched upwards, his face quirking as he tried to hide the magnitude of the smile. He didn't say anything more but inside he was thinking, "Yeah, maybe."

-- -- --

Was that as good for you as it was for me? I'm not a pervert, I'm really not! Anywho, please review!


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